I’m not a quitter when it comes to my husband’s dick [MF]

I have no doubt that Beyoncé has great drunken love, but I’ve found it gets a little messy with us mortals.

My husband and I have officially reached the age where we can’t have four drinks without getting sloppy and hungover the next day. However, when I got my agent and my husband had a very big win at work, we decided we were long overdue for a margarita toast.

We did have a margarita. Then another. When the owner of our favorite restaurant saw us she then sent us a free round of drinks, so naturally we had two more.

You see where I’m going with this.

On the walk home I did the thing all young couples in love do: I spanked him and then ran down the block. He laughed and started chasing me, despite our tequila fueled sloppiness, a race ensues.

We’re both training for a marathon right now which means at some point muscle memory kicks in and makes this challenging. We ran the entire block home and giggled the whole way. Folks were staring at us like we were insane, and we kind of are.

“If you catch me I’ll let you fuck me,” I called back to him.

“If I catch you I’ll let YOU fuck me!”

He caught me right outside of our building and we both laughed as we fell to the ground. “I think I win,” he said as he pulled me into our apartment. The moment the door closed he pushed me against the wall and tried to hike up my dress.

“We can’t fuck yet,” I laughed.

“Oh really?” He asked as he got to his knees and pulled my underwear off.

“I have to suck you off for at least ten minutes first.”

He shook his head as he pulled me into our bedroom. “I want to make you come, V.”

“Yeah… the thing is I know you and you can’t get off right now. I think we have to focus on you first or you’re not going to be able to come at all.”

I know this man’s body well.

He pushed me back on the bed and climbed on top of me as he pulled off his shirt. “You are absolutely wrong. I’m so turned on right now I won’t even last long.”

“Ok…”

I let him pull my dress over my head before I unclasp my bra and throw him at me. He puts his head down to my breasts and kisses them as he plays with me.

There are very few things I know to be true in this world, but one fact I am certain of his that my husband is into my body. Our marriage has as many problems as the next one, but we are very fucking attracted to each other.

Too attracted sometimes. I really should have given him head first.

When he unbuckled his belt and threw his pants off, I tried to get on my knees so I could get him in my mouth, but he stopped me and pushed me on my back. “Viola, I just want to make you come right now.”

“I promise you will. I am begging you to let me suck you off first.”

“No,” he said as he flipped me over.

On one hand, I see what’s about to unfold and know there’s only so much dick I can take. Then again, I like it when he takes control and at this point I’m wet and tight. The bastard knows it.

He puts his mouth to my ear, nibbles a bit, and then asks if I still don’t want to get fucked.

I can’t argue with that so I beg for it.

He pulls my hips back to meet him and fucks me with my ass up and head buried in the mattress. He slams into me and pulls my hair.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges.

Obviously I can’t. I need it and I’m already building. Instead I tell him to keep going and moan about how good he feels inside of me.

In an unfortunate and fortunate twist of fate, when I’m drunk my senses are heightened while my husband has a very hard time getting off. The good news is he can always get hard, but the bad news is that there’s only so much I can do with that erection.

What I’m saying is, I come almost immediately. I don’t think I last even more than 30 seconds before I’m at the edge.

“Spank me,” I gasp when I’m seconds away.

He starts smacking my ass over and over as I build to climax and pulls my hair a final time when I finally go over the edge. My body shakes underneath him as he fucks me through each wave.

“Can you keep going?” He asks.

“Fuck yeah.”

He flips me back on my back and tries to fuck me missionary, but I throw a leg over his shoulder before he goes to back inside of me. He kisses my thigh and then pushes it closer to my head before he puts himself back in.

*Thanks yoga.*

He fucks me like that for a while and I tell him to take his time. I wrongly believe my orgasm was intense enough so that we have time before I start building again.

Of course, this was before he starts playing with my nipples.

I know I should stop him because the sensation is building, but my husband loves my breasts and how I respond when they tighten. He flicks me once and smiles when I arch my back and moan. Then he just fondles me until I’m back to the edge of climax.

“Fuck!” I yell. “Be less sexy.”

I try to swat his hand away from my breast but he gives me a pleading look. “It’s so hot though, V. Please?”

I mean, who am I to deny that?

He squeezes my breasts again as he puts his mouth to my ear. I let out a final moan and come quickly with a whimper.

So herein lies the problem: He is very far from orgasm. Again, I know this man’s body very well.

He pulls out of me and smiles. “Can you keep going?”

I shake my head. After five tequilas and two orgasms, it doesn’t matter how hot my husband is… I’m not getting wet again.

“It’s ok. That was more than enough. I don’t think I can get off when I’m this drunk.”

“Is that a challenge?” I sit up suddenly and ask.

“No, I’m being serious. It’s not you. I don’t think it’s physically possible.”

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

I put him in my mouth and pull out all my best moves. I lick the sides of his dick for a while before I go all in. I slowly move down until he’s fully down my throat and hold him there for a while. Then I slam back and forth and deep throat the fuck out of him. He gasps above me and pushes my head down gently as I go to town on this mother fucker. After a slow build I go so hard I’m getting whiplash and occasionally have to come up for a gasp of air.

This goes on for thirty fucking minutes until I fall back in exhaustion. Even I have my limits, y’all.

“It’s not going to happen, V. It’s ok!”

“No!” I moan as I reach for him. “Just fuck my boobs.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. And you can come on my face. You like that.”

He looks intrigued but gives a little shrug when I press my breasts together and nod. He gets above me and squeezes as he takes a handful of each. He presses them so tightly around his dick I have bruises the next day, but I’m honestly still turned on my this despite my exhaustion.

“I love you from my angle,” he says.

“I love watching you like this.”

He plunges back and forth for a very long time. Several times when they get too try I have to put his dick back in my mouth just to make it wet again so he can slide in again.

Finally, at long fucking last, he tells me he’s close. I remind him he can come on my face and he finally, FINALLY pulls away and let’s his cum drip down on my cheek.

He collapses beside me and we fall asleep. Yes… I pass out with this man’s cum on my face.

*I wish I could say this was the first time this happened. It’s not. I’ve spent many nights like this. I don’t have a skincare routine but I like to think his semen will somehow keep me young. Idk, I’m fairly certain it has healing properties.*

We both pass out. We probably should have grabbed water before this, but we’ve just fucked for over hour in a tequila-infused frenzy. Plus we had both run 8 fucking miles earlier and our bodies are shot.

We have no hope.

We woke up the next morning cursing ourselves and margarita machines everywhere.

“Why are we so hungover?” He groans.

“Because we’re old.”

“I think you should go make us coffee,” I croak

“Doesn’t this fall under wifely duties?”

“Yeah, I performed enough wifely duties last night and your cum in on my face.”

I don’t make the rules. I don’t care how hungover you are, if your wife spends more than 45 minutes getting you off, it’s your turn to make coffee.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vi7n12/im_not_a_quitter_when_it_comes_to_my_husbands